What Could Have Been
by prinnie
Summary: FINAL PART UPDr. Cuddy, Do you have any children?Cuddy centric oneshot, written in two parts. Hint of HouseCuddy. Please RnR
1. Chapter 1

Hello!

This is the first part to my one-shot, the next part will be up as soon as you get reviewing! This delves into Cuddy's psyche, and i've not read many fics that do that - so i hope that it's ok!

Spoilers: Forever, and probably for the next House ep, which i think is called Who's your Daddy (?) I haven't seen these eps, but got a synopsis fromfriends - Prof, and Tniit. Cheers gals!

Disclaimer: i own de nada of this genious show that is House MD, but i do claim my own original characters, and the idea behind this fic.

Constructive feedback is welcomed!

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**What Could Have Been (part 1)**

She sat at her desk; the two files lay in front of her – unopened. Two files, one decision. A decision that could change her life forever, make right what was wrong in the past.

The events of the past week were taking its toll on her. She had to make one of the hardest decisions as an Administrator. Save the life of an employee, a colleague – a friend, or prevent the death of thousands of lives. Sure, in retrospect, she had made the right decision. She made the right choice as an Administrator. She did her job, what was asked of her. Then why was it that she kept feeling so guilty? Eric Foreman had made it. House had saved him. She should feel good. They were all safe. Their health, and their jobs, _her_ job was safe. She felt horrible. There was so much more that she could have done. Found a loophole, work around protocol, bend the rules – _break_ the rules. Where she felt there was nothing else she could have done, she felt that she could have done so much more. She was duty-bound by the ties of legalities and responsibilities. Bound by the very profession that she lived for - and for which, in some ways, she had let other facets of her life die.

The past week had dredged up many suppressed memories and feelings. Seeing Foreman and his father together, first unable to deal with the situation and the fearful 'feelings', and then that gruff, yet warming reconciliation. She couldn't help but think _'I could have gone through this'. _She smiled a sad smile at the vision of embracing her own child – a phantom child. She felt her eyes well up at the thought, the memory, and the vision of what could have been.

Frustrated, she set aside the files, blinking; she pushed herself out of her chair and out into the hospital, surrounding herself with the things that she had sacrificed so much for to get to where she was today. She walked the halls of the hospital, nodding to her colleagues, sending a distracted smile to the discharged patients. She didn't know where she was going – her thoughts directing her.

As a child she dreamt of being successful, having it all. A lab-coat, Head of Department, a nice car, friends, family – a family of her own and to top it off, a comfortable home with that white picket fence. It was at arms length, and she was going to make it happen. However, when she received the acceptance letter into Medical School, her priorities changed. She wanted to be the best. She wanted to be among the elite in the Medical society. She wanted her career to be recognized. She wanted something other than the label of 'Just another doctor with another specialty'. Focusing all her energy on studying, and perfecting her skills – she had begun to withdraw from the circle of society. Only few close friends stuck close by, and were occasionally able to drag her away from her books into the nightlife, where she would resume the title of 'Party pants'.

She thought that by working herself to the brink of exhaustion would pay off and she would be able to regain some of the sacrifices she had made once she'd graduated. What was usually a joyous and liberating day was one filled with bitterness and confinement. Her spirits were high – thinking that the day had come where she could piece her life back together – right every wrong. However, the percentage difference between second place and first place changed all that. She thought that she finished at the top – she had to have, after all the hours she spent in the labs, in the library, after all the hours she dedicated herself to her study – she had to have finished at the top of the class. She eagerly walked towards the Notice Board where the examination results of the top five graduates were posted, expecting to see her name at the top of the list.

Her father had always told her to _'expect the unexpected – it saves you the disappointment if you don't get what you want. And when you do, the surprise and joy of it will be so much more.'_ She was so sure of herself that she forgot this bit of advice – she'd mapped out her life, and had stuck to her choices, everything would turn out how she wanted. Exactly how pissed off she was when she saw her name second on the list was indescribable. The feeling of being let down, the feeling of resentment filled her being. She attended the ceremony with a forced smile, to those who knew her – the disappointment on her face was as clear as day.

This fuelled her ambition, her hunger for success. She was going to move ahead, work harder than she ever had before and be the one at the top of the food chain. She used her brains and wit to get where she was today – the second youngest, first female Chief of Medicine. Life be damned, dreams be damned.

The giggles of a little boy broke her out of her reverie. She turned from where she was waiting for the elevator to arrive, and watched as he wriggled in his father's arms, his mother tickling him from behind. Their faces held the expression of happiness, and love. Not a single flicker of loneliness or loss was evident. She prayed that they never had to experience that. There was a pang deep in her stomach. She breathed in a shuddering breath, as she watched other families milling about, waiting for news on their loved ones.

She longed for what she could have had - a family to go home to. A little body to tuck in at night, to wake up to a smiling face peering down at her, to roll over and send that tiny body over to the still sleeping form next to her – launching a playful attack. She wanted to experience the fights over curfews with her own child, to read the school report cards, to be a proud mother at their recitals, then at graduation. She watched another happy family leave the hospital, and couldn't help but think, '_I could have had that.'_

She followed her thoughts to the fourth floor – the maternity wing. She stood in front of the glass window that acted as a barrier between the bustling world of hospital politics, and world events. Behind that wall rested several tiny bodies, sleeping peacefully in their own world where everything made sense. A world where they were free from the harrowing decisions that people faced every waking day. Her heart constricted, as she ached for what she had lost.

tbc

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hope you enjoyed the first part, and that i didn't kill Cuddy's characterisation.

Please tell me what you think - and the rest will appear STAT!

Prinnie


	2. Chapter 2

Wow - thanks to those who are reading! that makes me feel loved! And thanks to _DavidJDuncan, Chromo26 _and _Rogue Butterfly_ for reviewing!

Here is the final part. I hope you enjoy it - and please, as it's the last chapter, let me know what you think!

Prinnie

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Her mother had died knowing that her daughter had met her goal, also knowing that she had denied herself the dream that was once an ultimate goal. If her daughter was happy, well then – she wasn't dying. Andrea Cuddy knew her daughter like the back of her hand. She was pleased with what she had achieved throughout her career, and was satisfied with life in general. Her personal life was a whole other ballgame. Just as Lisa Cuddy knew all that went on in her hospital – Andrea Cuddy knew all that went on in her children's lives. It was like a maternal sixth sense. She didn't have to be told, she just knew. Andrea knew that despite her façade, Lisa still harbored many regrets in her life. She felt so guilty when she last spoke with her mother. She'd abandoned her childhood dreams and for that, she was guilty of. She assured her mother that she was happy – even though Andrea would see straight through her. Her last words to Lisa were _'You can still have what you want. What you need. You can still be happy, but no matter what, I'll always love you.'_

Andrea knew what Lisa denied. Lisa denied that she had any regrets. Why would she? She was extremely successful, was well respected, and had few, yet loyal friends. Should she be guilty? She had achieved what some people could only see in their dreams. However, Andrea saw the truth, Cuddy was guilt ridden about letting her drive for success surpass her true dream to be a doctor. She had long given up her dream of _practicing _medicine in her field to become the Dean of Medicine. Sure, she still treated patients, but it was not the same. She wasn't exactly _healing_ the patients like she wanted to. House was right. She hadn't been a Doctor in years.

Her biggest, deepest secret was also her biggest regret. She had no one to blame but herself. Her late nights study, being so into her work, committed to perfecting her grades – she forgot to take care of herself. Her doctors ordered her to take it easy especially in her condition, but there was a month until finals. She was young and driven. She had just been handed one-half of her dream, and the rest of it was a month away. She wanted it so badly she could taste it. Then the unthinkable happened. She could not blame anyone else but herself. It was her fault. She'd lost her child.

The wail of a baby shook Lisa out of her trance. She blinked a couple of times, and realized that she was crying. Anxiously, she quickly wiped them away, slightly smudging her make up.

"Erm, excuse me Dr. Cuddy?" The nurse tentatively walked up to Lisa, seeing that she was upset and not wanting to pry. She had only come to get a form signed. Lisa sniffled. '_Back to work. The one thing that keeps me going, the one reason I have to get up in the mornings.'_

Lisa signed the forms, and returned the nurse a strained smile. She needed to get out of there. All of a sudden, the surroundings, the people, and the sounds – it was all too much. She felt like the walls were suddenly caving in on her, and her breathing became labored. She had to get out of there. She wiped away the remaining tears, and briskly walked out of the department, heading towards the stairs. Only one image stopped her in her tracks – a mother cooing over her newborn child. Again, her chest tightened as she turned and bounded up the stairs. '_That should have been me.'_

She hated meeting with the parents of a dying child. There was nothing worse than telling a parent that their child wasn't going to make it. No body knew about her past, and she was going to keep it that way. No matter how painful it would be. Trying to objectively console grief-stricken parents when you couldn't reveal your own pains was torture.

"_Do you have any children Dr. Cuddy?"_

_She paused, her voice catching in her throat, "No, I don't"_

"_Then don't say –'I understand what you're going through', because you CAN'T! You've never known what it feels like to face losing your child, or to have lost one!"_

_Lisa averted her eyes, silently thinking, 'But I DO, I really do!'_

Stood on the roof of her hospital, under the stars, Lisa's thoughts led her back to her college days. Even though she completely immersed herself in her textbooks, she still had time to venture into the realms of College flings. She had had a few memorable flings, but one in particular would have to have been during her residency. She had heard of this man throughout her undergraduate years. He was a legend, and she knew him only as that. In the later years, they had crossed paths, becoming sparring partners. She then_ knew_ the Legend - they were friends. Before he moved on to bigger and better places, she not only knew the Legend, but she _had_ the Legend – in more ways than one.

She would often think of what her child would have looked like. Would he or she have looked exactly like her, but with his eyes? Or would he or she have looked exactly like him, but with her hair, and nose? One thing was for sure. The child would have its father's brilliant eyes, an intelligent mind, and with parents equally as stubborn as the other, the child was sure to have inherited that 'quality'. The tears started falling once again, as she imaged her life with an adorable child to watch over.

"Cuddy," Lisa started as she heard the gruff voice behind her, the extra thud on the concrete, and the slap of the files on the ledge of the roof.

"What do you want House?" her voice was filled with emotion. House winced. He had an emotional, slightly bitchy woman on his hands, and he was doomed if he blamed it on PMS.

"Steven Johnson and Marcus Kaii. Both in excellent health, with an exemplary sperm count. Anything on your mind Cuddy?"

Lisa snorted, and blew her nose on his offered handkerchief.

"I can't believe you carry around a handkerchief." Despite the directions of her earlier thoughts, and her seeming need to speak to somebody – she really did not want to be speaking to House. Period.

"Yeah I save it for when I'm rescuing damsels in distress." Lisa raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah yeah, I'm a regular Lancelot. What's going on? Those two files are not patient files. At least not for my department, maybe for the guys and gals heading up In-vitro- which in your case, is the right department. According to your garbage anyways, and that Red Clover seems to fit the bill of '_you_ want a baby'." House looked at her expectantly.

He was having a little trouble reading her tonight, despite the fact that already she had broken down twice, in the span of an hour. But she'd crawled back into her shell, and she wasn't coming back out. The only way she would come back out was if you smoked her out.

"House It's none of your business. Just drop it."

"You _made_ it my business when you put that memo on those folders for your assistant to give to me." Cuddy made no move to elaborate, so he decided to take it into his own hands.

"Right, differential diagnosis. 38 year old, successful female. Workaholic, loner- ow" Cuddy slapped his arm for that last 'diagnosis' before he continued,

"Annoying, and scary maternal clock _has_ to be ticking._Ahh_ so Cuddles dear," he said in a patronizing voice, "_You_ are realizing that your time to pop out Mini-Cuddy's is running out, and are starting to look at other options, and obviously J-Date, _hasn't_ worked out for you, so sperm donor it is. Personally, I don't see why you'd _want_ a child. Just another bit of emotional baggage. Besides, the amount of time you spend here, would you even have time for it? I can see it now, 'Driven Dean of Medicine Neglects own Child.' Ohh your face would be so red."

Lisa turned away from him, as he'd hit the nail on the head. All her defences came down. All at once, she was flooded with the memory of sitting in a pool of her own blood in her bathroom, her mother banging on the door, tears streaming down her face. The aching pain in her stomach, the heartache afterwards and then that deep, numb feeling of loss. He didn't know. She refused to tell him. What difference would it make? It wouldn't change anything. Those exact reasons – her putting her work before everything else was the exact reason for why she was successful, why she wasn't in a stable relationship, why she was childless. She wanted to run, run away from it all. She wanted this day to be over, better yet, to never have happened. She wanted to forget.

House watched as the conflict of emotions flew rapidly across her face. His face if possible, softened,

"Cuddy, what's going on in that head of yours?" Lisa just shook her head, unable to speak. Suddenly he was concerned. The last time he saw her like this was when Andrea was diagnosed with breast cancer. What if –

"Lisa – is there something you're not telling me, that I need to know? Or that I don't need to know, but that I'll want to know?"

Cuddy looked into his eyes, dark, sad, stormy eyes, contrasting with the curious cerulean blue. She bit her lip, '_You were my baby's father.' _

"No."

With that, she dropped the files on the ledge of the roof, and started to walk back towards the hospital, her captor, leaving House there to ponder what was going on.

As she walked past him, he grabbed her wrist, and she turned back. Their eyes connected for that brief moment, sad eyes coursing into the deep blue ones. For that brief moment, they reminisced, an un-spoken communication. Then she shook her head forlornly, and stepped away, not before softly squeezing his hand and walked away.

In the wind, the contents of the files swirled around, carried away by the breeze -lost, forgotten.

House watched her from the roof, watching her drive away. Home, to the comfort of her bed, pondering what could have been.

_Fin_

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_Ok the end!_

_please let me know what you think - pretty pretty please!_

_Prinnie_


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